


Enamor Me

by crossroadswrite



Series: _____ Me [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M, Oblivious Derek Hale, POV Derek Hale, Pining Derek Hale, Werewolf Courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:25:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4910431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Derek sneakily woos Stiles and doesn't expect him to notice.<br/>.<br/>He keeps catching himself doing these little things and he doesn’t know why.</p><p>Except that’s a complete lie. He knows exactly what he’s doing and why he’s doing it.</p><p>He likes Stiles.</p><p>For whatever reason he likes him. Like, wants to be the best version of himself he possibly can because that’s what Stiles deserves likes him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enamor Me

**I.** [protect him]

A lot of people think that there’s a distinction between the wolf and the human in him when there’s not. He’s both.

When he does this, it’s not because of an animalist urge or anything of the sort.

He’s part wolf. It’s an integral piece of his being and that part will act out according to his human side.

Derek roars, claws out and half shifted, making himself appear bigger than he is, blocking Stiles from the minotaur’s (and seriously, a freaking _minotaur_ )line of sight.

“Derek,” Stiles gasps, one hand curling over the back of his shirt. “Derek we gotta _go_.”

He needs you to understand this. It’s necessary.

What he does isn’t the wolf or because of the wolf. His actions are his own, human and wolf are the same. Whatever bullshit the internet tries to feed you don’t believe it.

He needs you to understand this because, that said, he still has instinct, stronger than most people’s. It’s part of him and that instinct is often stronger around Stiles.

It’s almost a compulsive need.

He growls one last time at the thing, lets his eyes flash, and it’s just enough to make it falter.

It’s enough. He turns as fast as his abilities let him, throws Stiles in a fireman carry and high tales it out of there before the godforsaken minotaur catches up.

When they finally get to safety he sets Stiles down, eyes roving over him for injuries, well _additional_ injuries.

Stiles pants, face flushed and a bead of sweat skittering down the side of his neck.

“That was,” he breathes out, looks away for a second. “Yeah.”

“A thank you would be nice,” he tells him, only half serious.

Stiles takes a shuddering breath in and holds, reaches out and claps Derek on the shoulder.

“Thanks, big guy. That _was_ impressive.” He straightens and grins.

Derek is left to stand there with a feeling in the pit of his stomach like he just did something right.

 

 **II.** [feed him]

He keeps catching himself doing these little things and he doesn’t know why.

Except that’s a complete lie. He knows _exactly_ what he’s doing and why he’s doing it.

He likes Stiles.

For whatever reason he _likes_ him. Like, wants to be the best version of himself he possibly can because that’s what Stiles deserves _likes him_.

“Oh dude, are those curly fries? And burgers?”

Derek plops the food down on the coffee table in front of Stiles and picks up the book he had left lying there before he went out.

Stiles opens the bag and makes a couple pornographic noises, leaving Derek to shift uncomfortably on the couch.

“Ugh, so good,” he mumbles, stuffing his face.”

“You’re welcome,” Derek says off-handedly, staring resolutely down at his book.

“Thanks, dude. You’re awesome. Seriously, right now you’re _my favorite_. I would marry you, I would, but I’m already committed to these curly fries.”

Derek thinks his heart might stop a little at that, but he ignores it. It’s just Stiles talking out of his ass like usual. He doesn’t mean it.

Of course not.

“I don’t know what’s with you always bringing me food after I got back from college,” he says, sucking grease off his fingers. “But I’m not about to complain.”

Derek hums, contentment spreading from the center of his chest down to the pit of his stomach when his nose catches a whiff of how pleased Stiles is.

 

 **III.** [shelter him]

“Stiles?” Derek shouts across the parking lot, watching Stiles balance six shopping bags and wobbling down the street.

He jogs over, opening up his umbrella and sheltering Stiles under it.

“Are you insane?” he demands. “You’re going to catch pneumonia and die like this.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at him, one of the bags slipping precariously in his grip. “Don’t be such a worrywolf. It’s not that long of a walk back home.”

Derek sighs, long suffering, and takes a couple of his grocery bags for him.

Stiles huffs in annoyance but the smile threatening to tilt his lips upwards belies his annoyance.

“What am I? A simpering damsel in a harlequin?”

Derek starts walking him back home, making sure all of Stiles is under the umbrella.

“Damsels in harlequins aren’t stupid enough to walk in the rain loaded with shopping bags.”

“Harsh,” Stiles laughs and Derek’s chest expands in a stutter with it.

Stiles knocks their shoulders together, blinking droplets of rain out of his eyelashes and doting a smile on Derek, the quiet almost shy one that he hardly gets to see.

“Thanks for helping me out. You didn’t have to.”

Yes he did. There’s no way he wouldn’t because it’s _Stiles_ , whom he is apparently horribly in love with.

But it’s not like he can say that, so he says, “No problem.”

 

 **IV.** [care for him]

“It’s a- dream catcher?” Stiles asks, letting the thing hang from one of his fingers and spin lazily around.

Stiles looks up at him, confusion quirking his lips.

Derek shifts in place, shoving his hands on the pockets of his leather jacket as far as they’ll go.

“I have a friend,” he starts to explain. “Back in New York, she helps people with-” He shifts uncomfortably in place, not sure if he’s stepping over a line here. “With nightmares and stuff. It works.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Stiles says very quietly and very softly. “Thanks.”

He turns away and hangs it on the corner of a shelf just over his bed at his new apartment with care, trailing his fingers over the intricate rope wonderingly.

When he turns there’s something incredibly tender in his expression. “Thanks, Derek. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no pro-“

Stiles hugs him and Derek shuts up in shock, before his brain kicks back into gear and he tucks Stiles in his arms carefully.

 

 **V.** [love him]

It’s New Year’s Eve and Derek’s on the roof, the pack around him, happy and settled, each in with own lives but still together, still an unit.

Derek restored the old building he had invested most of the insurance money from the fire in and made a little patio up on the roof for pack only for instances like this, when they’re just waiting for the fireworks to go off at midnight.

“So,” Stiles says, plopping down in a pool chair next to him, crossing his ankles and tilting his chin upwards into the night sky.

“So?”

Stiles smiles up at the stars. “I was thinking. About stuff.”

“Eloquent,” Derek compliments.

Stiles rolls his neck so he can look over at Derek. “You know, when Scotty got bit I did a lot of research. And I mean, _a lot._ There’s some interesting things on the internet.”

“I’m sure.” Derek raises an eyebrow, not too sure where this may be going.

Stiles laughs a little, mostly with his eyes and it steals Derek’s breath away like fireworks were never capable of doing.

“You ever hear about courting?”

Derek blinks. “Courting?” he says very slowly.

“Yeah, it’s this thing that people used to do way back when. Some animals do it too. Pretty interesting stuff.”

“What’s that got to do with Scott being bit?”

“Well, back then I didn’t just research werewolves. I wanted to cover all my bases so I thought learning a bit more about plain old wolves would help.”

Derek presses his lips together thinly.

“Don’t make that face at me, Der. I know you’re not animals. Come on, listen to what I’m trying to say.”

He sighs and asks, “And what’s that?”

“I’m trying to ask when you’re gonna stop sneakily courting me and actually ask me out.”

Derek is pretty sure he stops breathing right then and there.

“I- I wasn’t- I didn’t-“

Stiles rolls his head back towards the stars. “Take your time, big guy. I’ve been waiting. What’s a couple more years right?”

Derek stares at him, his heart working double time because Stiles _knows_ and he’s- not rejecting him. Derek didn’t ever want to chance asking if the answer could be a no.

But it’s not- and Stiles says he’s been _waiting_ and what the hell is he supposed to do with that.

He takes a deep breath and sits up, because he can be doing something really stupid, but he thinks doing nothing would be one of the biggest mistakes he would ever make in his entire life.

Derek scoots closer to the edge of the pool chair and leans forward, hovering over Stiles, hesitating for a second.

“Are you going to kiss me or stare longingly into my eyes?”

Derek huffs and Stiles grins, one hand reaching for Derek’s neck and pulling him down, kissing him slow and sweet and _finally_.

The pack starts whopping around them, hollering and whistling and Derek is pretty sure he hears Erica scream something about winning a bet, but he’s too busy to pay full attention to that, it’s all background noise to the feeling of Stiles’ lips on his that’s more smiles pressed together than an actual proper kiss.

Derek pulls back and watches Stiles chase after his lips, eyes softly closed and cheeks flushed.

He feels something in his chest finally settle, once and for all, and leans down for another taste of Stiles’ happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't always take meme prompts on tumblr, but when i do this is what happens. this and angst. ah.


End file.
